I started this blog so I could be completely honest, so that by writing these things down for all of my family and friends to see, I can be held responsible for my actions, choices and feelings.
I've been trying to avoid this next admission for a whole week: I'm falling off the wagon.
Ever since I saw the doctor last week, I've gone into "Fuck It" mode. When my friends were in town this weekend, I ate everything in front of me – bad Chinese food, high-calorie tropical drinks, biscuits and gravy, bacon cheeseburgers, fries, nachos, biscuits and gravy AGAIN - even though I had planned to do otherwise. I haven't worked out all week, mostly because I feel awful but partly just to give up, if only for this week. I pigged out on 3 Dunkin' Donuts crullers on Tuesday night when they were offering free coffee in response to Starbucks's nationwide shutdown for training. I've made about 5 diet root beer floats (with Ben & Jerry's Vanilla Ice Cream) over the past 4 nights. I've dined out for lunch every day this week (Subway, a calzone, Chipotle Burrito Bol, and a big muffuletta sandwich today + 2 cannoli and some layer cake made with cannoli filling). I just can't seem to stop.
And I don't feel good about it. This food makes me feel like crap, of course, but I'm still bingeing. I think I'm doing it mostly to get back at my doctor for suggesting bariatric surgery. After all, right after my visit with him I went to the beef stand across the street for a polish sausage and cheese fries. I didn't eat it all. I just wanted something bad.
I've been seriously considering gastric banding over the past week, looking up local surgeons, checking my insurance website to see if they're approved providers. I even signed up for the next information session at NMH, which isn't until May 20. Trust me, I would have gone to the one in March and April, but they were already booked solid. And you have to go to one of those in order to be considered a candidate.
The only thing I need to do is contact my insurance company to see if it would be covered….but I'm afraid what they'll say. If they say it's not, then it's not. Too bad. Try something else. But then again, if they say it's not, then I think I would look into financing it myself. I mean, it's an investment in my health that's roughly the cost of a car. Why not? I'm young enough to pay it off.
It's all so confusing. I just feel like I'm twelve years old again, riding in the passenger seat of Mom's Mercury after a bad weigh-in at the Phen-Fen doctor, facing the window so she can't see me cry.
Will I ever grow up?
So there's that,